


Witchy Woman

by Likerealpeopledo



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-09 15:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1987266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likerealpeopledo/pseuds/Likerealpeopledo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU Mindy/Danny, set between the events of Be Cool and the finale.<br/>Mindy visits an occult shop in an effort to mend her semi-broken heart, and finds herself in her own alternate universe, six years in the past.<br/>(Stick with it, it gets better, I promise.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Occult Non-Fiction

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a multi-chapter arc. The first chapter is mostly setting up the scene for the rest of the story. Again, be gentle.
> 
> ***This work is now complete.

Chapter One: Occult Non-Fiction

Mindy shakes her newspaper at Gwen, who is idly scrolling through her Twitter newsfeed. “This is it! This is exactly what I need!”

Gwen glances at the headline, “Ooh, an exorcist?”

Mindy gives her a dirty look, “Please remind me why we are best friends.” She flattens the paper on the table, showing Gwen the article in question, “The Season of the Witch.” She reads bits and pieces aloud, citing the new location of a magic shop in the East Village that specialized in the occult, who had recently helped a woman improve her relationships by giving her the ability to project power onto different objects.

Mindy taps the paper forcefully, “This is just the cosmic interference I’ve been looking for. All my problems will be solved forever.”

Gwen wrinkles her nose, “Mindy, you know that I love you. You’re your own tier of best friend. But this is nuts! I know that Danny broke your heart, but this isn’t the answer. You’ve got to harness your own power, not get your palm read.”

“This isn’t about Danny, Gwen. I have wasted so many opportunities with other men because I didn’t know myself well enough. Because I was self-conscious, or I was afraid to let them see things I didn’t like about myself…If I knew then, what I know now…Imagine how I could apply it. Maybe the Jamies and the Sams and the Cliffs wouldn’t slip away. Maybe I could have a bunch of lanky, penis-y and elbow-y kids with Casey by now, if I hadn’t have been so judgmental and small about his being directionless.”

“This is ridiculous.” Gwen starts to go through her purse, settling the bill. “But I know you, Mindy, and you’ll do what you want. It’s no skin off your back if this doesn’t go the way you plan, right?”

“Of course not! The worst that happens, I pay forty bucks for a candle that smells like cat pee and everyone goes home happy.”

***********************************************  
Mindy stands in front of the frosted windows of The Enchanted less than an hour after her brunch with Gwen. It looks like any other shop in the East Village; purple awning, bare tree covered in twinkling white Christmas lights, statues and tchotchkes in the window. Wrought iron gates guard the entrance.

Taking a deep breath, Mindy charges through the gates, and opens the front door. She is bracing herself for some kind of fairy tale cauldron and flying monkey situation, but instead finds a twenty something girl with spiky blond hair and a glittery t-shirt behind the counter, under a sign that reads “We DO NOT carry any items dealing with black magick.”

“Can I help you, miss?”

Mindy looks at the girl, and at the wall of labeled herbs on the shelf behind her, and is suddenly overcome with sadness. “I don’t even know anymore.”

“Did you read about us in the Times?” The girl asks, her nametag reading Isadora. Mindy somehow doubts that is what her mother named her, but she’s hardly going to judge at this point.

“I…Yes.” What would be the point in lying? _She’s a witch, she’s going to know, Mindy._

“Yeah, we’ve gotten a lot of new customers thanks to that article. It’s sweet! I felt like the author really got us, y’know?” Isadora seems to be too enthusiastic for a witch, but Mindy soon realizes that the extent of her witch knowledge comes from the _Wizard of Oz_ and _Hansel and Gretel_. As far as Mindy was concerned, Isadora had already broken the glass ceiling of witchery as she didn’t have green skin or a wart on her nose. “A lot of people are realizing that you just have to turn to other sources for comfort sometimes.” Isadora comes around the counter and takes Mindy’s hand, “If you don’t mind me saying, you look like you need some comforting right now.”

Mindy is overtaken by the pervasive feeling of warmth that this stranger is exuding, and before she knows what is happening, tears are streaming down her face. Weeping in the arms of a friendly sorceress is a new side effect to break ups that Mindy is not familiar with, and she wonders if this means she might need to talk to someone about psychotropic medications after she leaves.

Isadora leads her to a table in the back of the store, past the talismans and the zodiac oils. She pulls a curtain to ensure privacy. Mindy finds herself unloading her entire history of relationships, from the first boy she kissed during Seven Minutes in Heaven all the way up to her semi-heartbreak with Danny. “And I say it’s semi-heartbreak because it was so…short and it seemed like it had so much more potential…to be bigger than it was.”

Isadora nods, “You wear your grief mask very vibrantly, Mindy. But I feel like there are things that we can do to help.”

Mindy doesn't want to know what her grief mask looks like, although from her reflection in the framed portrait of Alistair Croley, she has a pretty good idea. “Yikes.” She touches her hair. “There’s snot everywhere, isn’t there?” She sniffles.

Isadora passes her a tissue. “I think I know a way that you can go back and change things; imbue your knowledge into past events and make your present and your future shine. You won't have to live in your regret, but live in your now.”

Mindy likes the sound of that; living in her now. As it stands, she is firmly planted in her...not now. And nothing else was working, why not jump in with both feet?

Without an ounce of hesitation, “What do I have to do?”


	2. Blast To The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mindy is transported back in time to solve her love life

 

Chapter Two: Blast to the Past

 

Mindy doesn't hear a word Isadora says as she explains the methods that she is planning to employ in order to assist Mindy in "living in her now".  She could only think that it was finally a way to feel less lost.  All she remembers as she chugs down the avenue was hugging Isadora tightly to her bosom after paying her sixty dollars for a variety of herbs, oils, and candles, some of which came out of bottles called "Peace and Protection" and had names like eyebright and five finger grass. Isadora had written a chant for her to repeat and given her explicit instructions on how to carry out her task, which Mindy carries like they were bestowed upon her by the Queen.

 

Mindy arrives back at her apartment late in the evening, rooms hazy with the twilight.  She worries briefly that she might be having some sort of traumatic grief reaction that was causing her to act out of character, until she realized that believing in magic was really not all that out of her character.  Isadora had instructed her that she needed a constant, or an anchor; someone that she could trust and would help her if she needed it as she delved back into the past.  Mindy had many friends, but it was hard for her to imagine Gwen or even Peter or Jeremy just accepting the mantle of "constant" without institutionalizing her first. 

She calls Morgan, who is just Morgan enough not to question why Mindy needs to him to hold her hand while she holds sage and chants in Latin.

"Anything for my Queen."  His knowledge of her menstrual cycle could also prove useful on the Other Side, she figured. 

When she dresses for bed, Morgan is laying on the couch, texting Tamra and talking loudly about house training his latest rescue pup.  She doesn't feel any different than she did in the morning, before she unloaded her cosmic fear of dying alone on a spiky haired enchantress.  Maybe a little sillier.  She gives Morgan a side hug, and thanks him for not questioning her sanity.  She then questions his sanity for not questioning hers. 

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Dr. L." 

Mindy settles into her bed, burrowing into her mountain of pillows and luxurious blankets.  _At least nothing smelled like cat pee_ , she thinks, as she drifts into an uneasy sleep.

******

Mindy wakes to sunlight streaming into her bedroom window, and no sign of Morgan.  She glances at the clock, which reads 7 a.m.,  and opens her door to find the day's newspaper, which she sits down to read with her morning coffee and bearclaw.  She drops her bearclaw on the floor when she sees the date reads April 16, 2008.

"What the sweet baby cheeses..."

Looking around, Mindy realizes that she is in her apartment circa 2008.  She dashes to her closet and finds clothes that she hasn't seen for years, in a size that she hasn't been for years.  She looks down at her hips and realizes that the fifteen pounds she is constantly waging war with have diminished literally overnight.  "Hot bod, sister." She jumps into the shower, in the bathroom that she has not yet remodeled, and tries to remember what she was doing in April of 2008.  How did she get here?  Why April 2008?  Isn't this a little too far down the rabbit hole?

She flies through her morning routine and rushes to the subway line that she is accustomed to riding each day to Shulman and Associates, realizing a third of the way there that she isn't even employed there yet.  She wasn't hired until August. 

 

Mindy punches the elevator button and waits, not sure what her plan is at this point.  She's just going to show up and pretend she belongs there?  She mentally admonishes herself for not listening closer to Isadora's instructions.  When the elevator opens, Mindy immediately spots a familiar, compactly muscular figure.  His dark hair is longer and curlier than usual, which Mindy guesses means that April 2008 is prior to Danny discovering the magical scissors of Tortellino the Barber. His curls brush the back of his collar and he turns to talk to the receptionist, a woman that Mindy vaguely recognizes as Dr. Shulman's sister in law, who only worked there for a short time after Mindy started.

Mindy catches the glint of a gold band on his left hand. “Married Danny!” She gasps, and he turns to look at her.

 

“Can I help you with something, Miss?” His face seems fuller, his eyelashes still belonging to a Disney princess, but his dark eyes so much brighter than she remembers. The smattering of gray hairs on his temple that she used to play with as they laid in bed are gone; his head of hair is pure, jet black. There is not even a glint of recognition in his eyes as he looks her up and down. She wonders around the office, going toward the door that she’s known as her own for so many years. It is dark, and stuffed with the random artifacts of a medical office. Cardboard boxes of old charts line the walls, medical equipment is heaped on the desk, and there’s a thin coating of dust on all the surfaces. A ten speed bicycle is parked where her high backed chair currently  rests.

“Are you here about the position?” Danny asks her, rifling through the chart in his hand. She realizes that she is a stranger to him, he’s never seen her before in his life. “We didn’t have any interviews scheduled this afternoon but if you’re available, maybe Dr. Shulman can fit you in.”  In her original 2008, she had been scouring the city for an office that seemed laid back but still busy enough to be lucrative. She didn’t love thinking about money but she absolutely loved having it. But in April, she hadn’t come across Shulman and Associates yet. She wasn’t sure how all this parallel universe time traveling stuff worked, but she hoped that she wouldn’t come across 2008 Mindy Lahiri at her next medical conference.

"Dr. Daniel Castellano, Partner."

“Dr. Mindy Lahiri, nice to meet you,” and she shakes Danny’s hand. “It’s not even damp!” she says, aloud, before she realizes. Danny gives her a quizzical look, but keeps walking toward Dr. Shulman’s door. 2008 Danny is different, Mindy thinks, following him. She glances at his lower half, taking in his perfectly shaped gluteal region. “Nope, same tight ass.” _Future Mindy needs to stop talking to herself_ she scolds. 2008 Danny seemed altogether happier, lighter, and surprisingly less sweaty. He looked people in the eye, greeted people as they passed him, and high fived the man behind the reception desk, “”sup Derrick!” Mindy remembers that when she first started at Shulman, people would actually pick up the phone and pretend to make a call to avoid talking to Danny. He was just so scowly all the time.

_I got whisked into a Bizarro World where Danny is happy and I don’t exist yet. This is bananas._

Danny comes back to address Mindy, who is still debating whether or not she wants to get interviewed at all. A four month vacation sounded kind of wonderful, especially after all the stress of the past few months. "Dr Shulman can see you in a few hours, he's booked solid this morning. Did you want to come back at noon?"

"I would love to," If for no other reason than to make sure that she hasn't lost her mind completely. "Thanks, Danny. I'll see you later!" Danny pauses, and for a moment, she thinks it may be because he has a flash of remembrance. That maybe he does see _her;_ the Mindy that he attacked with his lips at the back of an airplane because he just couldn't take it anymore. "Great." And he turns back to his paperwork. Okay, maybe it was just gas.

****

Mindy spends the next few hours wandering around the city, visiting long lost landmarks and browsing through shops. She goes into the East Village, but the storefront that housed Enchanted isn't a magic shop, but a butcher. So much for the going back to the source to answer any questions. Isadora was probably a petulant 16 year old, still named Tiffany and living with her parents in Williamsburg.  Mindy returns to her apartment, checking her voicemail. She has messages from Gwen, and from Maggie, and another from Evan, a man she dated on and off through her residency. _Maybe it's a sign.  Maybe that's why I ended up here, instead of 2012._

But Evan wasn't the reason.  Mindy searches for signs and clues and kismet and karma around every corner for three months, trying to find the reason that she was returned to this specific time in her life.  

Why was she deposited NOW?  She had interviewed with Dr Shulman, to the same result, but several months earlier than she had in her first experience.  She had the same friends, the same parties, the same bad dates.  She spent more time with Danny, obviously, than she had previously, but he was happily married.  They had inside jokes and ate lunches together, and "realized" that they rode the same subway line into the office each day. Danny  proudly showed her Christina's photo journalism articles as they were published in different magazines. Mindy shared her bad dates and happily accepted Danny's teasing.  Danny still had some foibles; he was a little conservative when it came to money, he told very corny jokes, and he did like things just the way he liked them (i.e. he was kind of fastidious and a little anal retentive) but he wasn't nearly as tightly wound. He didn't have the hard glint in his eye when he teased her. It was just easy. Jeremy would flirt with her, like he had before, but this time, she knew better than to enter into the "friends with benefits" situation.  In a way, it was nice cleaning up some of her messes, but it was also a little non-eventful.  

Mindy is starting to feel manic and rudderless, like she is looking for a cosmic needle in a giant haystick.  _Come on, Universe, give me a frigging clue!_

And then one day in mid July, her phone rings before the sunrise. "This is a collect call from the City of New York Department of Corrections, an inmate is attempting to contact you.  Will you accept the charges?"

She presses 1, holds her breath, "Min, this is Dan.  I need your help."

 

 

 


	3. Breaking Up is Hard to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mindy assists Danny after his arrest  
> "Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies."--The Shawshank Redemption

Mindy finds her way down the City Jail, where her future ex-boyfriend sat, booked on charges of Disorderly Conduct and Public Intoxication. She waits in the Release area, watching the door for Danny’s familiar form to emerge.

After about forty five minutes, a bedraggled Danny winds the maze of the processing area, carrying his belongings in an eight by eleven manila envelope. His face is covered in a day and a half’s worth of stubble and scruff, his eyes rimmed red.

Mindy flies off the bench she’s been waiting on, throwing her arms around his neck. “Danny, Danny, what happened?”

“Let’s talk later, okay? I need a shower and…just not to talk.”

Considering that Mindy knows that Danny and Christina broke up, but Danny doesn’t know she knows, Mindy decides that she will allow Danny his space. He called her, after all, so clearly he’s going to turn to her for solace eventually.

Her renewed sense of time travelling purpose has Mindy raring with energy. She practically bounces out to the waiting taxi with Danny, who is clearly hung over and rattled. He gives her a side eye, “Are you reveling in this right now?”

Mindy shakes her head, “No, no, I’m just…I had an energy drink?”

“It’s 5 a.m.”

“I had a lot of time to wait for your jailbird ass.” Mindy teases, but clearly Danny is not ready for it.

“Just drop me off at home and I’ll pay you back for my bail later, okay?” Danny fiddles with the envelope, and bangs his head against the window of the cab with each expletive. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Danny?”

“I can’t go home.” He groans.

“Danny, please tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

“I don’t…Christina came back from Cambodia last week, back from her work trip, y’know? And things were just feeling…off. She wasn’t really looking me in the eye. She seemed…guilty.”

“What did she do, Dan?”

Danny splays his hands across the envelope, like he’s about to trace them. “She’s leaving me.”

He’s said all the words but the ones she knows are coming. “What?” Mindy hopes she sounds surprised, and not expectant.

“I found…they were in bed…he’s lucky that I wanted to keep my medical license and didn’t lay him out…”

Mindy reaches for Danny’s hand, “She cheated on you?”

Danny nods. He hasn’t looked at Mindy yet, but she can see how he is tensing his jaw, and even though she’s always known Danny as a bitter divorcee, to be present for it is still heartbreaking. “She cheated on me.” His tone is resigned, tight.

She makes a disapproving and hopefully, surprised sound. “OhmyGod, Danny. I am so so sorry.”

Danny concentrates on the back of the seat in front of him, playing with the headrest, still working his jaw. “Yeah, me too.” His voice is small, and far away.

Mindy searches for words, not knowing what else to say or do. She knows that he wants to suffer in silence, “You need to come back to my place, and I’m going to take care of you, Danny.”

He finally glances in her direction, “I’d appreciate that, thank you.” He gives her a half smile, the kind that does not reach his eyes.  _Sad Danny is sad_.

Mindy settles Danny onto her couch, and gently convinces him to allow her to return to his apartment to get him a few things so that he can be more comfortable staying in her apartment for a few days until cooler heads prevail.

Armed with the key to Danny and Christina’s apartment, Mindy considers that this is why she landed in 2008. She couldn’t stop Christina from cheating, that much was obvious; but she could do something to help Danny not become so closed off, so tightly wound, so angry all the time. And if Danny is less of those things, then maybe when their time comes, Danny doesn’t get so scared that he runs. _The Universe is giving me everything that I never knew I wanted._ Mindy picks up her pace, running through the crowded blocks in Tribeca, taking the stairs two at a time, ignoring her heavy breathing and the cramp forming in her side.

Danny and Christina’s marital apartment is in Tribeca, probably five blocks from the apartment that Danny moved into after their divorce. For some reason, she isn’t worried that she’ll run into Christina. Mindy surveys the scene, taking in shards of broken plates on the kitchen floor, candle sticks upended, a bookcases’ contents on the floor. It looks ransacked, burglarized, and it quickly dawns on Mindy that the tableau fully represents the results of Danny’s disorderly conduct. She feels an ache, for Danny, for his utter despair. _Jesus, Dan_. Mindy goes to the closet, pulling out shirts and jeans and shoes. She finds his socks and underwear in a drawer. Everything smells different, not like the Danny she’s shared a bed with, not the Danny who’s made her breakfast. She likes his new smell better. She finds his razor, and other toiletries and packs them into a Dopp kit. She muses that the beauty of Danny’s OCD is that everything is extremely easy to locate.

She pulls a suitcase out of the hall closet, and loads it with everything she’s collected. She looks around for something personal that Danny would want to have with him; the benefit of six years of collected Daniel Castellano knowledge. She tours the wreckage of the living area, searching for something that she knows that Danny can’t live without. She finds the tiny orange giraffe in a pile of medical encyclopedias and coffee table photography books. “Mr. Neck!” Mindy grabs the stuffed animal and puts him in the top of her purse. She grabs a few medical journals and Danny’s Bruce Springsteen CDs for good measure.

Mindy schleps Danny’s suitcase back to her own apartment, only slightly frustrated with its cumbersome nature. She bursts in the door to find Danny stripped down to his boxers, her fluffy blanket thrown across his bare chest, snoring softly on her couch. He’s clutching the jail issue manila envelope like a child with a teddy bear. She looks again at his fingers, and realizes what they are missing.

Thirty three year old Danny obviously looks much younger than thirty nine year old Danny; sleeping Danny looks positively like an infant. The softness of his face, the fullness of his lips, his downy hair; it all adds up to a very vulnerable picture; a picture that Mindy (who possesses zero artistic ability) wants to photograph, paint, and sculpt. She leans closer to him, preparing to kiss his temple when he begins to stir. As a result, their heads conk together, making a resounding _thud_. “Jesus, Mindy, are you trying to kill me?”

She apologizes and plops down next to him. Danny gets suddenly self-conscious and covers himself with the blanket more fully. She almost blurts out that she has seen the Fully Monty so he needn't be prudish, when Danny points at the giraffe peeking out of her hand bag.

"I brought you Mr. Neck. I thought you needed something comforting."

Danny stares at her, as if he's looking through her. "How did you know his name?" His curiosity has replaced his embarrassment.

Mindy sputters, "Aren't all giraffes named Mr. Neck?" She won't address how she knows that he belonged to Danny instead of his wife, even after finding him in their shared apartment.

Danny shrugs, "I guess."

"Let's order take out and call your Ma, and Richie, okay? I bet you want to talk to them, and fill them in on what's going on."

"I'll eat, but I'm not ready to...tell people, okay? Just...be cool."

Mindy winces, involuntarily. "Okay. Be cool."

*********

At Mindy's urging, Danny takes several weeks off of work (what does he need all that banked sick time for, if not for heartache?) and spends them with her, vegging on her couch and being force-fed a diet of movies and junk food.  Like pregnancy, there are not degrees of heartbreak.  Either you are or you aren't; and Danny was definitely suffering from the affliction.  Just this time, not by himself. 

Mindy holds a DVD case over Danny's head, "You'll love this one.  It's got everything you love-- boredom and prisons!"

Danny pulls _The Shawshank Redemption_ out of her hand, "Do they fall in love?" He asks, looking at Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman on the cover.

"Not in the traditional sense, no, but I think it'll be a change of pace you'll enjoy." 

Danny makes their popcorn, and brings it back to Mindy.  He snuggles in next to her, opening up his newspaper.  "Thanks for letting me hang here.  It would be awful stuck in a hotel this whole time.  Not to mention financially irresponsible."

Mindy punches him in the arm, playfully, "Hey, what are best friends for?"

Danny pauses for a second, "We're best friends now?  I was thinking more like, "co-workers with a sense of entitlement.""  Danny is quick to dodge her second punch, which was coming closer to his head than he would have liked.  "Seriously, Min, thanks.  For everything."  His voice is getting that low and serious tone, the one that makes Mindy nervous.  Post Traumatic Danny Stress Disorder nervous.  "I couldn't...you've really helped me out.  A lot." 

She smiles, "It was the least I could do.  You've done a lot for me, too."

Danny looks puzzled, "Okay." 

Shit.  They've only known each other for about four months, not six years.  He hasn't bailed her out of school jail, or rescued her Christmas party, or sat on a fire escape talking her into getting married yet.  "You got me this job, right?"  She covers.  "That's a lot." 

Danny nods, "Sure, I guess."  He turns back to his paper, his desire to discuss his feelings apparently dissipated. 

Mindy throws her leg over the side of the sofa, and waits for Andy DuFresne to get his poster of Raquel Welsh.  _We have all the time in the world to get back to where we should be.  Together._

And because the Universe has an entirely well developed sense of humor, the night that Mindy and Danny laze on the couch watching _The Shawshank Redemption_ is the same night that Mindy's debilitating, horrendous, skull piercing headaches begin. And it is the same night that she realizes that maybe she doesn't have the benefit of time anymore.

 


	4. Brain Matter

As Andy DuFresne digs his way to freedom, Mindy feels a sudden explosion in her skull, “Danny,” she slurs, reaching for his arm.  Danny glances up from his paper, taking in her frightened countenance, “What is it? Mindy, what’s wrong?”

It feels like someone shot her in the back of the head, and she reaches back to the base of her skull, as if to check for blood, “My head…I think…” She can barely understand the words coming out of her own mouth, and Danny doesn’t seem to either.

Is this a stroke? An aneurysm? Mindy feels her body flush with warmth, and she gives into the darkness that overtakes her.

When she wakes, she’s laying on a gurney in the emergency room, tubes and IVs emerging from her arms. Danny sits, slumped over in a tiny chair near an even tinier television. Her purse is on his lap.

“Danny?”

At the sound of her voice, Danny startles into action. “Min! Are you okay? Do you need something?” She’s never seen him so gentle before. Maybe with a few of the babies he’s delivered, but never adult humans. (There’s a look that Danny gets, when he hands a baby to his mother, that 2014 Mindy wishes that she could bottle and look at, forever.)

“I’m…everything hurts. What happened?”

“The doctors think it could have been a subarachnoid hemorrhage. Seriously, you scared the hell out of me.” Danny leaves her purse on the table near the television set and comes to sit on the edge of her bed. He gently strokes her cheek, and Mindy has another twinge of nostalgia. _Danny loves to touch a face._ “Are you hungry? Does your head hurt? I can call the nurse.”

“No, I’m…I mean, it hurts, but I don’t feel like I’ve been assassinated in Fords Theater anymore.” Mindy jokes feebly. Something is terribly wrong, and she’s worried that there is no physical cause, or physical remedy.

Danny holds her hand during a battery of tests, strokes her hair, and glares at nurses who refuse to aid him in placing cool cloths over her eyes when the light is too much for her to bear; they are released after twelve hours of testing yielding no physical cause of her problem.

After filling her prescription for a painkiller strong enough to fell a small horse, she promises Danny that she will rest, and attempts to shoo him back to his own new apartment. She doesn’t need him hovering over her while she tries to find the only people who can help her remedy what is clearly cosmic illness.

She barely has the door shut when she becomes so overcome with nausea that Danny scoops her up and deposits her on the cool, ceramic tile of her bathroom floor, holding her hair and murmuring soothing things as she vomits, over and over and over. He cleans her up, and gently guides her out of her jeans and t-shirt, and into her softest pajamas. He refuses to leave when she tells him that she can be disgusting on her own, no need for an audience, and he sleeps on the couch, ready to jump up at any moment to comfort or tend to her.

Mindy sleeps for the better part of two days; she wakes only to take medication or drink water that Danny foists upon her. At some point in the night of the second day, her headache subsides, and the stars that dance in her line of vision gradually recede. Danny has had to run to the office to catch up with patients; she is alone in her apartment for the first time in days.

She trudges around her apartment, surveying how Danny has cleaned her kitchen, and straightened her magazines on her coffee table. She realizes that her laundry is folded, and clothing, which is usually strewn haphazardly throughout her house, is neatly hung in ROYGBIV color order in her closet.

Mindy spots Danny’s newspaper on the kitchen counter as she pours herself a glass of orange juice. Danny’s left the Fashion and Style section on top for her, and she spots a familiar face staring out from the pages.

“Isadora!”

Despite the throbbing behind her eyes, and three shower-free days, Mindy throws on her nearest clothes and fights her dizziness as she flags down a cab. She instructs the cabbie to take her to Isadora’s original place of work, a storefront even deeper into the Village, aptly named Hocus Pocus. “That’s a little on the nose,” Mindy mumbles, paying the cabbie.

She finds Isadora on a lumpy couch, talking to a middle aged woman very closely. When Isadora catches sight of Mindy, she quickly excuses herself, “Mindy,”

_She knows me._ Mindy feels an enormous sense of relief permeate through her body, almost helping to reduce the pain in her skull. “You remember me?”

“Of course, Mindy, I remember. What kind of witch would I be?” Isadora smiles. She looks exactly the same as she did the day Mindy met her. Some kind of aging spell, Mindy deduces. “You’ve been here, in this now, for quite some time, haven’t you?”

A wave of nausea washes over her, and Mindy steadies herself near the amulets. “It’s been almost six months. And I’m just finally getting somewhere! Except for this whole exploding brain business.”

Isadora leads her by the hand into a separate room, away from the main space. The walls are covered in rich tapestries and a table sits in the middle of the room, covered by a silky purple shroud. “We need to talk.”

“Yeah we do, sister!” Isadora settles Mindy into a high backed chair, bringing her a cup of tea and a biscuit. The tea tastes and smells like heaven; the bright hot pokers of pain that had begun to reappear behind her eyes slide away immediately, “My headache…it’s gone.”

“How long have you been having the headaches?” Isadora asks, concerned.

“Almost a week. My friend, he took me to the hospital, they couldn’t find a cause.”

“They won’t. There isn’t a physical cause. It’s…more natural. Elemental, maybe?”

“Listen, lady, I’m a doctor, so don’t dance around this stuff with me. Am I going to die?”

Isadora pauses, “Possibly.”

Mindy almost knocks her cup of tea off of its saucer. “What?!?”

“Mindy, everything that we used in the spell was natural. The occult; everything we do is based in nature. But with nature, there must be balance. There are consequences for every spell, so that witches aren’t capable of upending the natural order. Your time here could not be unlimited; I explained that to you the day you came to see me.”

“Listen, I was pretty…my grief mask was strong that day, and I may not have, uh, totally heard everything that you were saying, so if you wanted to, uh, do a rundown…that would be swell.”

Isadora remains very patient, very warm. “You followed enough of them to get here, Mindy. What’s important now is that you get back. Your symptoms have manifested physically; think of them as a beating biological clock.”

Mindy ponders her tea. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Did I pick April 2008 or did you?”

“Mindy, when I listened to your story, and I heard your regrets; though you never said it out loud, this was where you needed to be. Your heart brought you here. Your love for Danny brought you here.”

“I wasn’t in love with Danny. We dated for like three weeks. I wanted to go see what other fish were in the sea. Didn’t my grief mask explain this stuff well enough?”

Isadora gives Mindy a hard look, not as gentle as before. “You explained it perfectly well.”

Mindy sees no reason to fight with a clairvoyant. She isn’t even sure what she wants to wear most mornings, how is she supposed to be sure about her feelings for a complicated guy who may or may not have broken her heart? And she’d rather her heart be beating and broken than not beating at all. “How do I book the first broom out of here? I’m too young and hot to die!”

Isadora details the spell, including Mindy’s need to locate the person that she chose to be her anchor. Mindy has a sudden flash of realization, “Stupid juvenile delinquent constant.”

The Wiccan gives her a sideways look, “I’m sorry?”

“Ugh, my constant, he stole cars as a kid. He’s in jail in 2008. What am I supposed to do? Keel over because Morgan can’t remember to stop stealing cars?”

Isadora consults one of her huge volumes and calls in another woman, who agrees that Mindy should be able to draw power from an article of Morgan’s, something that could possibly contain his DNA. (She refuses to acknowledge that this item could possibly be his sperm, because, eeeeewwwww.)

“One more time; just so I have this straight.” Mindy balances the crate of healing tea that she’s been gifted on her knee. “I do all this stuff, and I go to sleep and wake up in 2014. Danny wakes up tomorrow, in 2008, and the Mindy that he’s known all along will have returned.”

“Correct.”

“And he won’t remember any of this other stuff? Like, the friendship stuff?”

“He’ll remember what’s been imprinted on his soul, what remains in his essence.”

Mindy rolls her eyes, “Oh my God. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever…No, no, you’re right. What’s imprinted on his soul, his essence, got it.” _I don’t think I’m emotionally equipped to imprint something on someone's soul, time travel or not._

_"_ Mindy, he'll remember what he needs to remember."  Isadora gives her a squeeze.  "Good luck."

_I don't need luck; I need a miracle._

 


	5. Miracle Morgan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just getting the elements together; short chapter

An excruciating two weeks later (the New York State Department of Corrections moved at a glacial pace), and Danny safely tucked away in the on-call room at the hospital, waiting on four different patients to deliver, Mindy ropes Gwen into driving her upstate to the Otisville Penitentiary.

  Gwen focuses the rear view mirror on a prostrate Mindy in the backseat of her Range Rover. The tea only works for a few hours at a time; Mindy’s headaches have been so painful that she can barely sit upright, but she knows that she has to get to Morgan if she has any chance at all of returning to 2014.

“I’m not sure why you’re insisting on doing your community service when you’re in this state.” Gwen looks concerned. “You can barely stand. Danny had to carry you to the bathroom yesterday.”

Mindy didn’t want to know how Gwen knew that, but she imagined that it was because Danny was keeping Gwen abreast of her health goings on. “Aww, sweet Danny.” Who was this guy?

“Gwen, the New York Department of Corrections waits on no woman. And when you befoul the Lincoln Center fountain for the second time, you must pay the ultimate cost.” 

“Working in the cafeteria of the State Penn?”

“There are degrees of cost, yes.”

“Are you okay to get in there on your own? Do you need my help?” Gwen pulls up in front of the large, grey institution, behind a barbed wire fence.

Mindy suddenly feels lighter than she has in weeks and her pain seems to be dissipating rather than ramping back up. “No, I’ll be okay. I’ll see you in a few hours, right?”

“Yes! Please don’t pledge your love to any convicts while you’re in there!”

Mindy hums the theme of _Orange is the New Black_ as her paperwork is processed, search conducted, and finally directed toward the Visitor's Area.

Morgan is parked at a small cafeteria table. He is positively pre-pubescent, especially with his gap toothed smile.  She loves how devoted Morgan is, despite her seeming indifference to him.  His hair is a prison issue buzz cut. He catches Mindy’s eye and gestures her over, “Ah, my African Queen.”

“I’m Asian, Morgan.”

“I don’t see color, Dr. L. We’re all the same race." He pauses for dramatic effect, " The human race.”

“You recognize me?”

“Um, of course, Dr. L.”

“So you know why I’m here?”

Morgan smiles broadly, “Conjugal visit, right?” Mindy gags.

“Don’t worry, Doc, I got ya. I’m not gonna leave you in the lurch.” Morgan leans over the table and a guard yells out, “No touching!”

Mindy backs up. “Seriously, you know why I’m here?”

Morgan’s face is so childlike it starts making her feel nostalgic. Which is utterly backward of her, because this was never how she knew him.

“I don’t understand it, really, but I know that I’m your constant.”

“How do you know that?”

“I guess when I smoked those Js with you, they hooked me in your magic web or whatever.”

“There were never any Js, Morgan,” Mindy hisses, noticing the cameras recording their conversations. “It was sage. And thank you.”

"So how am I supposed to give you a sample if we can't touch?"  Morgan looks at the items that Mindy was allowed to bring in with her.

"Well, that's the thing, I told them that I thought you were my baby daddy and I needed to collect a DNA sample.  With my DNA kit, because I am a doctor."

"Good looking out, Dr. L!" Morgan encourages, and proffers his cheek so that Mindy can swab it.   The guard gives her a nod. 

Mindy quickly takes care of the business at hand.  When she is finished, she settles back into her plastic chair.  "So, are you really okay in here, Morgan?"

Morgan nods, "I'm not gonna come back here, if that's what you're asking.  And I'm gonna make something of myself, if my best friend is a beautiful Indian doctor."

"We're not best fr---"Mindy stops, "Aww, that's sweet, Morgan.  You're gonna be a great nurse in a few years."

"So, you time travelled, huh?"  Morgan leans forward, "Was it worth it?"

Mindy considers for a moment, "I don't know yet."  She doesn't know why, but she tells Morgan everything, from start to finish; her whole ridiculous story, up to and including her confusing feelings for her current friend, future ex-boyfriend, Danny. 

The guard announces the end of visiting hours, and Morgan stands to leave.  "You have to tell him, Dr. L.  You can't just leave without telling him what you told me.  It's not fair."

Mindy is about to launch into how her brain trying to fall out her ear isn't fair either but she stops herself.  She came back to be less selfish, not more.  "You're right, Morgan.  I have to tell him."

"Let's go, Inmate," calls a deep voice.  Morgan turns with a bright smile, "See you on the flippity flip, Dr. Lahiri!  I can't wait to meet you!"

 


	6. What Falls Apart, Comes Together

 

**********

Danny blinks twice, hard, his eyelashes meeting his cheekbones. “Tell me something only I would know.”

Mindy shuffles her mental Rolodex of Danny knowledge, “Your dad left when you were 12. It was like a knife to your heart. You raised your little brother, you took care of your Ma when she got sick, you went to Med School because you wanted to show your Dad you weren’t a bum like him. You only ever told one girl, Christina, that you loved her. Because you were afraid if you told anyone else, they’d leave you too. You’ve dated every race of woman. You hate it when people dress their dogs,”

“Dogs aren’t people!”

“Thatta boy!” Mindy forges on, “Because dogs aren’t people! You’re allergic to talking about your feelings. But for some reason, you are eerily good at listening to mine.  When you kiss a woman, you always go for her ass. You used to be a primo ballerino.”

Danny stands, stunned, his arms at his side. “I don’t…you came…”

“Please don’t stroke out on me now, Danny, that’s my job.” Mindy touches his elbow, guides him to the couch. “So you believe me?”

“I guess so?” His voice goes a few octaves higher. “Clearly, due to my Catholic faith, I must renounce this behav—" He begins to cross himself.

Mindy shushes him, “Listen, now is not the time, Father Flanagan. I need your help. I’ve glimpsed the future and all I have to say is, Go Back.” Mindy smiles at her _Say Anything_ reference.

Danny looks at her blankly.

“Jesus, Dan, pay attention to a rom-com every once in awhile. Anyway, I’m like the Ghost of Christmas Future in this equation. I’ve lived it, and now I’m in your present, to tell you what things look like if you don’t change how you live your life.”

“So you’re….a ghost?”

Mindy pinches Danny. “Yes, I’m a pinchy ghost.”

“Ok, so not a ghost. You’re real, but not real?”

“Oh, I’m real. 100% Grade A woman. But I’m Mindy 2.0. I have knowledge that I thought would help me, but turns out, actually helps both of us.”

“So you’re a robot?”

“Ohmygod, Danny, stop trying to label me. I’m Mindy. Get over it.”

“This is all very new information to me, I’m synthesizing. Give me a second.” He snaps.

Mindy launches into a synopsis of as much information as possible; telling him about their tumultuous relationship, their combined past/future, and anything that she can think of that might help him understand where she is coming from. 

“I sound like a real asshat.”

“An asshat with a heart of gold,” Mindy employs her best Omniscient Narrator voice.

“Of course, you didn’t sound like a real prize in that whole thing either,” Danny points out. Mindy glares at him.

“Listen, we all could use some self help once in a while…”

Danny considers what he’s heard, and Mindy can sense a plethora of questions pulsating within his being. “If I had a dollar for every time a woman told me that she’s come back in time to make things right…”

“Then I hope you’d have a dollar, Danny.” Mindy crosses her arms, pretending to be cross.  She's missed bickering with him.  It's like a tennis match sometimes, just going back and forth.  Her favorite part is when she bests him, and he gives her that begrudging smile.  

Danny's face goes slack for a minute and in a smaller voice he asks, “How long have I been in love with you?”

 She considers for a moment, “Theories vary.”

“Tell me the theories then.”

“Maybe since we first met but since your heart had shrunk three sizes, you didn’t want to admit it, so like a school yard crush, you pulled my hair and called me names…”

“That doesn’t sound like me.”

“Maybe not this you, but yes, it’s you, eventually.”

“I don't agree with that one. Tell me another theory.”

“Well, we held hands during turbulence once after a medical conference, so it could have started around then… And then there’s the time I almost married the pastor and moved to Haiti, you came *thisclose* to kissing me in the doctor’s lounge. Or when we pretended to be a couple to get you out of a Fatal Attraction situation with your neighbor. Or when you choreographed the Aaliyah dance for me as my Secret Santa gift…”

“I did what???” Danny sputters, a blush spreading across his features.  He knows exactly what song she's talking about, because she's been playing "Try Again" on repeat since she returned, to very vocal complaints.  “I don’t even know what that means. I must really be lonely in the future.”  He frowns.

“It was really perfect Danny, so maybe in that respect lonely works on you.”

"All right, jury's out on the how long.  Let's switch gears then.  After all this, I break your heart?”

“A little.”

“How can it only be a little if you came back in time to fix it?”

“I didn’t come back in time to fix us, Danny. I came back to see if I could use my knowledge to make something else work…because I thought if I made something else work, and we never were more than friends…”

He gets that know- it- all look on his face, the one that Mindy loves and hates, all in one, “It still sounds like you came back to fix us. I think you’re in denial.” He seems very self-satisfied; a glimpse of 2014 Danny.

“Denial is just a river in Europe, Danny.”

Danny looks gobsmacked, taken aback by her clear lack of geographical knowledge. “I…I don’t even have a response to that.”

 “When I got here and I realized that you and Christina were still together and I saw how different you were…but I couldn’t save your marriage…”

Danny absent-mindedly picks at the skin on his forearms, his nervous tick.  "Yeah, that.  It's okay, though.  That you didn't.  I think that it would have...I think in reality, in my mind, she could go at any time.  Not that I wanted her to, but that I expected it.  But you, you I didn't expect, you know?"

Mindy smiles, thinking of how Danny finally kissing her was more the result of not being able _not_ to do it anymore, not that he really wanted to.  And then she thinks of his face, and how he looked so scared, counting to four. 

“It isn’t time yet, for us. We’re really good at being friends, once we get there.”

“I think we’re already there. Friend-wise.”  

“I know right? It’s weird how quickly that happened this time. The last time, it took you three years before you stopped referring to me as that “weird Indian doctor””

“So we let things run their course, and when 2014 comes, this time, I’ll be ready.”

“I don’t know if it works like that.”

Danny grabs her hand, “We just have to have faith that it does. Because I have this feeling, this feeling like…I need you in my life. I have to have you.”

Mindy looks at Danny for a minute, her mouth gaping open. Danny takes her in.

“What? What did I say?”

“That’s exactly…that’s how you do it, when you break up with me.”

“That’s my reason?? What in the hell is wrong with me?”

Mindy shakes her head. “You wanna know what I really think?”

“Please.”

“You don’t know how great you really are.”

“From what you’ve told me, I sound like a narcissistic asshole with daddy issues.”

“But that’s all bluster. Underneath you have no idea what a truly amazing person you are. And you definitely don’t think you deserve a lot of love.”

“Jesus.” He inhales sharply.  

“You do though.” Mindy kisses his temple, and Danny shifts, so that their bodies align, point to point.

“I’m afraid if I change too many things, I won’t find my way back to you.” His voice is lower, softer, as he traces his fingers across her collarbone.

“It’s a calculated risk.”  Mindy gasps as his hands flutter across her chest and down the length of her torso.  There is electricity in his touch.  _I miss this._

“I don’t seem like I take a lot of risks anymore.”

“No, not really. But it’s understandable. You’ve been hurt.”

“How come I believe all of this? Shouldn’t I think you belong in an institution? Do I belong in an institution?"

“I don’t know why you believe me, Danny, but I'm glad you do.” Mindy is coming dangerously close to Danny's stupidly beautiful lips, and she misses how they taste minty and citrusy all at the same time.  _Just one kiss.  It won't make the world spin off its axis._

Danny pulls away, suddenly, startling Mindy out of her daydream. “So what happens now?”

“You know, regular Saturday night;  I have to reset the balance of nature. Just have to light these candles, drink this potion, read this chant, and when we wake up, I wake up in 2014 and you wake up tomorrow.  Easy breezy!”  

Pulling her back to him, his mouth on her ear, “Can we at least play one game of hide the cannoli, just in case?”

“Hmmm…cannoli…” Mindy stops, “OH! You mean…” She blushes.

“Keep up, Lahiri. I can’t believe after six years of this we haven’t had sex.”

“I know, it’s crazy. You could have had all this like a thousand times by now.”  She gestures down at her voluptuous form and Danny's eyes follow her hands.

“But I’m too scared?” This is most incredulous he's sounded throughout the entire ordeal.

“You’re a little scared, and I’m kind of, doing my own thing.  I do a lot of dating...The timing it isn't great…” She rationalizes for him.  He's already so anxious about everything else, Mindy wants him to have a little peace before she goes.

“Explain to me why can’t we just start now? I thought Isadora fixed your headaches?  I’m buying what you’re selling… we don’t have to waste any more time.”

“Did I not explain MY IMMINENT DEATH TO RESTORE BALANCE TO THE UNIVERSE?” She teases, “The thing is, Danny, I don’t feel like the last six years were a waste of time. We needed them. To grow. And maybe if we started now, we’d fizzle out even sooner. Because you just broke up with your wife, the Mindy that stays here after I go, she isn’t ready either. She’s still kind of a screechy head case. It just doesn’t add up to us, yet.”

“Now you’re the one who sounds scared.” Danny scoffs.

“I am a little. Because this is…this is really nice.”

Danny gives her the sly, shy smile designed to melt her resolve. _Damnit, Smoldering Danny_. “One game.”

Mindy shakes her head. “ I want to. Don’t get me wrong. This is…it’s taking will power, okay? I have that sometimes. But in 2008, I know I didn’t have a lot and now I have more. I’m not going to go backwards. Ironically.”

Danny nods, “I admire your strong will. I don’t think I have the same.” He kisses her neck, and down to her clavicle, groaning as Mindy pushes him gently away. She removes herself from his grasp and squirms her way off of the couch, thinking that distance from Danny is her best defense. She ends up at the kitchen counter, leaning on her elbows near the supplies that she’d brought back from Hocus Pocus.

“How many jiggawatts of that stuff do you have to drink?” Danny gestures toward the liquid that Isadora had sent along with Mindy from the shop.

“The whole thing.”

“So, let’s go, Doc Brown, I hear the clock tower is real pretty this time of night.” Looking into Mindy eyes and reading her fear, Danny pauses. “Wait, though, before you do, what else do I need to do, to you know, ensure our success?”

“Promise me that you’ll make Dr Schulman buy out the fifth floor so that those damn hippie witch doctors can’t foist their midwifery on the public from our building. Your dad misses you, and he wants you to let him back in your life. Don’t push him away. You did a great job with Richie, he’s a great kid. Don’t worry about him so much. Your Ma is gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Mindy feels the tears welling up, and he reaches for her. The counter separates them, and Danny crosses to wrap his arms around her waist. “I really like this Danny. But I really like the other one too.”

“The handsome jerk?”

“My best friend, the handsome jerk.”

"I think I want to be more than best friends, Mindy."

"Me too. Eventually."

"Eventually, then." Danny kisses the top of her head and Mindy feels a twinge of déjà vu.

"I think we need a code word."  Mindy brightens with the idea.

"Are we getting into some kinky stuff?"

"No, you perv. I think that we need a code word; in case something goes wrong in the time space continuum and I end up with amnesia, or in a coma or something."

"How is a code word going to get you out of a coma? Are you sure you’re a doctor?"

"Danny. Play along. Code word."

"Platypus."

"What special meaning does that have??"

Danny's starting to redden a bit, "You just told me to think of a code word, you didn’t say it had to be meaningful. C’mon, Mindy, I’m trying to be a good sport here."

She throws up her hands in defeat, "Okay, okay. Platypus. If either of us mentions a platypus, we’ll know that the spell worked, and we’ll know that this really happened. And that neither of us is scared anymore."

"Okay. And I will learn about hashbags."

Mindy looks at him, puzzled. "Hash tags. Oh, Danny. That’s sort of what I like about you though. You don’t know a hashtag from a bag of hash, and that’s what makes you, you. Don’t go un-Grandpa on my account. When you need reading glasses, please buy the red ones that connect in the middle. They are so embarrassing but so endearing all at the same time." Mindy and Danny lean against each other, arms hooked loosely around each others waists, her head tucked under his chin.

"Well, if they turn you on, I’ll get ‘em. Should I be writing this stuff down?"

"I think that’s cheating. I don’t want to throw off something in the wormhole. We have enough counting against us."

"True." Danny pulls away from her, keeping her at arms length. "If we drag it out anymore I might pour it down the sink and keep you here permanently."

Mindy smiles, "That’s sweet." She reaches for the glass, breathing deeply. The concoction smells like a cross between wheatgrass juice and dirty feet. She gags involuntarily. Danny reaches out for the glass, setting it back down on the counter.

"Wait, wait, wait.  I can't make you.... Can I at least make you dinner first? I feel like we should at least have a proper date…or you know, proper goodbye. It seems cruel to make you drink that on an empty stomach. I’m not a total prick yet."

Mindy's eyes light up, "Can we have breakfast for dinner? I miss the mornings when you would make me pancakes. Or should I say, I miss when you will make me pancakes."

"You got it, Min." Danny starts moving around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients. Mindy feels a twinge when he calls her “Min” and she wonders how long she can wait before she drinks that disgusting shake. It’s nice here, she thinks. Danny’s the better version of himself already, because he hasn’t had six years to stew in his own loneliness and regret. _Unmarinated Danny is kind of perfect._

"I feel like you’re a million miles away already. I can barely hear myself cook over the sound of your hamster wheel spinning."  Danny announces from the stove, as he turns on the burner and throws butter into the pan.

"Sorry, it’s hard when you’re contemplating being magically spirited through the time space continuum. Pardon me for having second thoughts."

Danny stops, holding his spatula aloft. "What do you mean you’re having second thoughts?"

"It’s just cold feet. Obviously, I have to go back. My brain could explode.  Or I could suck us all into a black hole if I don’t."

"Weirdly, that's exactly what Christina said when she left," Danny smiles, his tiny, no teeth showing, tears of a clown smile. The same one he gets later when he talks about his divorce. "Too soon?"

Mindy remembers a Marilyn Monroe quote that Gwen had stitched on a pillow for her after her break up with Casey, "Sometimes good things fall apart so that better things can fall together."

Danny pours the pancake batter into the griddle, making a perfect circle.  He drops blueberries into a heart shape on top. "Is that from a movie too?" 

"Kind of.  A movie star.  But it's true, Danny.  And it..."

He moves toward her, spatula still in the air, engulfing her in his arms.  "I really hope that we fall together when we're supposed to.  For everyone's sake."  Danny takes Mindy's face into his hands, and she feels like she can't breathe.  She closes her eyes, not because they're about to kiss (they are) but because he's so beautiful that it hurts to look at him.  The spatula falls to the floor as Danny's lips land on hers, and suddenly nothing about cosmic forces matter anymore.  She reaches down to Danny's  ass, _because two can play at that game, Mister._ Shirts are shed equitably and Danny is kissing a line from her breasts to her navel when the smoke alarm sounds.

He groans, "Looks like your will power just got saved by the bell," as he hops up to put out the small fire that has started on the stove top.  Mindy watches the sinew of his back as he moves, admiring how graceful he still is, even when he's burning the hell out of her good bye dinner. 

Danny remakes their pancakes and serves them to Mindy at her candle lit dining table.  He peppers her with questions, wondering about Springsteen and the Yankees.  She can see how the corners of his mouth are starting to turn down, and he's starting to realize that she's going to have to start her rituals if either Mindy's head or their relationship has any chance of surviving.  

*****

Mindy and Danny lay in her bed, holding hands; mesmerized by the revolutions of the ceiling fan.  Danny turns to face her, pulling Mindy into his negative space.  She likes how they fit together; her curves in his angles.  "Sometimes, when I have trouble falling asleep, I make up stories about the people in the building across the street."  Danny's voice is lower, gravelly; sleep may be tempting him more than it is Mindy.  

"I don't want to think about them right now, Danny.  I'm worried."

"I know, Min, but I need you to be in one piece if this is gonna work...in the long term."

Mindy is silent for a moment, "You know how cells are replaced every seven years?"

"I went to medical school too, so yes."

"Just think; when I get back, it’ll have only been six years. So there will still be some of your cells…and my cells that have touched, you know?"

"So the imprinting on my soul that Isadora was yammering on about? We’re going with science instead?"

Mindy smiles up at him, threading her fingers through his thick, curly hair.  "We're doctors, Danny, of course we're going with science.  I may be making a quantum leap through mystical forces, but it's science that's gonna keep us together."

Danny traces her lip with his finger, "Perfect."

 

 

 


	7. Back to the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter of the story, "Witchy Woman." I'm hoping that it is a satisfying conclusion.  
> I have a teeny tiny Epilogue coming too.

Not one to avoid hedging her bets, Mindy figures that she might as well use all the weapons in her arsenal in order to help save her relationship with Danny, even if it means trying more unconventional methods.  After all, she had time travelled to this moment, she wasn't going to leave all her eggs in one philosophical basket.

“Salvio Hexa!” Mindy shouts from the doorway to the bedroom, returning from a quick trip to the internet for additional assistance.

Danny gives her the side eye as she slips back into bed and curls up next to him.

“Physician, heal thyself.”  Mindy intones, and solemn looks turn into raucous laughter. “Egads, this is awkward. How am I supposed to know what's going to make an impression on your damn soul? I should have Derek Jeter talk to you while Springsteen plays in the background in front of a picture of the Pope?”

Danny shrugs, “Couldn’t hurt.”

“Imprint, imprint, imprint.” Mindy puts her face on Danny's sternum, mumbling against his ribcage. 

Danny takes her hand and rests it over his heart, “Maybe it would be better if I weren’t staring at you while you tried to do this. Stage fright, and everything.” She loves when his voice does that little cracking thing, and he sounds like he’s fifteen again. “We’ve got all night, right?”

Mindy nods, trying not to stare directly at his bottom lip. She brushes his face with her hair as she turns away. “Let’s not force things, I guess.” She feels like something is breaking loose inside her, and it sinks to the pit of her stomach. 

Danny reaches up and kisses her, soft but long.  "I think you just need to relax."  _So he does know that word._ Danny settles himself in the sheets, assuming his sleep position.  "Good night, Mindy."

With Danny safely snuggled in, Mindy lays on her back, watching the building across the street, thinking about how Danny would be making up a story about the couple in 3B, in an attempt to remedy his insomnia.  Jealousy stirs in Mindy's gut; these people in 3B with their waking up tomorrow in their own bed with their own partner with absolute certainty.  _Jerks._    As Danny's breathing begins to deepen and slow, Mindy turns her attention toward him. 

"Listen, Danny's soul, and listen good.  You are a good man, the old fashioned murder a burglar to protect your woman kind, and you deserve good things.  You are...incredible.  And you were right.  I did come back for us.  I don't know if I knew it then, but I do now.  And more than anything, I just don't want you to be scared---"

“I don’t think I’m scared.” Mindy jumps half way out of the bed when Danny speaks.

“I thought you were asleep!” Her heart races with the sudden jolt.

“I was kinda…and then I heard someone talking to my soul.” Mindy hits his arm. “I don’t think I’m scared though. I think I’m terrified.  I have a tendency to make things complicated.  Christina always said that."

"You told me once that you were glad your life was hard."

"My God, I can be an idiot." 

"You know what I think I like the most about you?"

She considers for a moment, parsing the words on her tongue. "The beauty of you being so stubborn is I know that forever means forever. Even in six years, you still miss being married."

"I was good at being married."

"I think, even in our story, you’re not worried about me leaving you. You’re worried about you messing things up and making me leave."

"I have a track record."

"I’m not going to leave you."

"You have a track record, too, it sounds like."

"I do." Mindy contemplates her hands for a moment, and finds it easier to focus on something that isn't the sadness in Danny's face. "Know why I’m hurrying back to the future?"

"Cuz your brain’s about to ooze out your ear?"

"Well, sure, but the real reason is…I want to see how this turns out."

"You're not the only one who wants to know how this turns out, Min, but apparently I have to wait six more years. You only have to wait until tomorrow!"

"What’s six years when it could mean sixty?"

Danny smiles. "You’re right; I’m gonna need a break. You’re exhausting." He scoops her up, pulling her so that she’s angled on his chest. Their noses are touching. Mindy can feel his eyelashes against her cheekbones. The flutter in her chest extends to reach the tops of her knees and she is flooded with warmth.

"I love you, Daniel Castellano.  I do."

Danny blinks, his face unmoving.  "Have you said that to me before?"

Mindy shakes her head, her eyes wide with her own surprise. 

"I hope I hear it again, Mindy."   Danny’s hard lines seem so soft up close. "But in case I don't, I love you, too."

Somewhere in the night, halfway between sleep and dreaming, Mindy feels moisture on her face. From far off, she hears Danny’s tiny voice pleading, “Don’t go, please. Please.”

**********

 

The water pressure from the shower beats against Mindy’s face and she opens her eyes to find sunlight streaming through her bathroom skylight.

She dresses and joins Morgan in her kitchen, who is brewing a pot of coffee and still texting. “Morning Dr L. How’d you sleep?”

Mindy starts looking for her own cell phone, but can't find it in all of Morgan's mess.  She's got to talk to him about how much stuff he brings when he spends the night.  It looks like the inside of a pet store in her living room.  "Ugh, I had the weirdest dream.  It was so long and so...detailed.  It just kept going...I'm kind of sad it's over though.  That herb stuff must have been potent."

Morgan throws a doughnut toward her face, "Heads up!"

"What have I told you about throwing my breakfast, Tookers?  I cannot have another cruller upside the head."

 

Mindy heads into St. Brendan's, after being paged about one of her patients being admitted with high blood pressure. A pair of strong arms pulls her into the Doctor's Lounge as she is headed to the High Risk unit.

“Rapist! Murderer! Help!” She squeezes her eyes shut and waits for the sweet release of death. _This serial killing rapist sure smells good_. And why is death fluttering delicate kisses over her eyelids, forehead, cheeks, and chin? She opens one eye. “Danny! What are you doing!?!”

Danny pulls her down, falling to his own knees and hugging at her mid-section. He attempts to creep under the top of her scrubs, tickling her stomach with his breath and tongue. “I’m trying to get in your pants, clearly.”

“Is this some kind of post break up weird sex thing?”

Danny gives her a strange look, “I hope not.”

“Just stop for a second. Just…stop.”  She pulls Danny to his feet, pushing her shirt back into her pants.  

Danny holds her arm, and gently lowers her onto the ratty old couch that they’ve shared for the last million years. Mindy can't remember the last time they sat on this couch, watching terrible (well terrible for Danny) reality television and eating junk food out of the vending machine. But from Danny's current body language, he certainly can.

"Danny, what are we doing here?  I mean, like, what are _we_ doing here?"

Danny takes a deep breath, "Whoa, I didn't think we'd be doing this so soon.  It's only been a few weeks,"

Mindy braces herself, tensing her jaw muscles and trying not to cry.  She can't hear him break up with her for a second time. 

“This is it for me. You, you’re it. I have feelings for you.  I have for a while.  And I’m too old to screw around with this 'will they or won’t they' stuff.” Danny takes her hand, “I love you, Mindy. I don’t know what you thought you heard, but I’m in this, and I want this to be…”

Mindy sits, stunned. It was a dream, she knows (well, she _thinks_ ) it was a stress induced, crazy, zodiac oils dream, but this is real. Danny is real. She tugs on his arm hair.  "Ouch!"

“Sorry.” She kisses the spot that she’s pinched. “I’m it?” She smiles up into his clear, brown eyes. He’s positively glowing. _God, he has such a beautiful smile._

“I make a really great husband. I have some practice,” he frowns, briefly, “But you know, practice makes perfect, right?”

Mindy nods, falling into Danny's embrace. "Perfect."


	8. Epilogue

Forty years later....

Silver haired Daniel Castellano sat vigil at the bedside of his ailing wife.  The couple had long since retired from their successful medical pratice, had raised their two children, and had set out on their twilight years together.  Their children always told them that their favorite past time was fighting and Danny and Mindy didn't disagree.  They had a certain rhythm and a method, to their madness, and it just always worked for them, no matter how confused anyone on the outside seemed.  It didn't matter how loud they spoke or what words they used, only that by the end of the night, they were in each other's arms. 

 

Mindy had gotten sick a few years before, and Danny took care of her, the way he always did, because taking care of Mindy was what Danny knew he did well.  The doctors (what did those young bucks know, with their fancy 4D imaging and their faces in computers all day?) told him that they were doing all they could, but Mindy didn't have much time left.   When Danny woke up one morning to find his wife of 39 years laying so still, too still next to him, he knew the end was coming.  He prayed and he prayed, but he also prayed for her comfort, and he wasn't sure that this earth was where her comfort lay anymore. 

Mindy had been asleep, unconscious, for several days, and Danny and the kids had sat in her room for all of them.  They read to her, stories about celebrities and people she still followed; even at 75, she loved social media.  They talked to her, told her stories about their day, brushed her still thick hair, even though it was streaked with grey.   After the kids had gone home for the day, the nurses wouldn't complain when Danny climbed into bed with his wife, careful not to disrupt any of devices that pumped air into her lungs or monitored her vital signs.  He would stroke her hair, and kiss her hand, and he would pray for one more day.  If he could just have one more day with his wife, the love of his life, he'd give up two of his.  

Danny gently kissed his wife's cheek, his resolve to be strong for his children cracking in their absence.  "Platypus. Platypus.  Platypus."  He didn't know why that word fell into his brain, but it felt like it was important.  It felt vital.

He closed his eyes, once again hoping that tonight would not be his last night with Mindy, that 39 years was not enough, not for him.  Not for them. 

"Daniel?"  Her voice was small, and weak, but it was there.  "Why are you talking about a platypus?"

He thought he would wake the whole floor with his laughter.

 

 

 

 


End file.
